It's Called Experience
by lNightWriterl
Summary: Sam and Dean don't talk about Hell. They don't talk about Purgatory or the Cage or a number of things that have caused them agony in the past. However, no matter how much they don't want to talk about it, life can have its own say in the matter. Rated T for swearing!
1. What Kills You Makes You Stronger

Chapter One: **What Kills You Makes You Stronger**

"We can still stop this."

Sam turned silently from the window as he heard his brother speak, looking down at him and the young woman who was curled with her knees to her chest on the ground beside him.

"I've made my decision Dean." She whispered quietly, a wisp of blonde hair falling into her face. Touching the golden cross on the chain in her hand she allowed a sigh to escape her lips "I deserve this."

"No." Dean interjected vehemently "No you don't. Trust me."

"Helen." Sam added as he sat looked over at her and dark eyes met his. "Your husband hurt you… Wanting him gone doesn't mean you deserve Hell."

"I sold him." She scowled "I sold _me_. The demon told me the deal and I agreed to it."

"You were desperate-" Dean started, but Helen cut him off.

"I knew what I was doing." She gritted out and Sam bit his lip at the absolute helpless look that crossed his brother's face. How could they save someone who didn't want to be saved?

"You don't." he said fiercely "You don't know what you're doing. Hell…" he trailed off and then grew quiet for a moment. "I've been there." He finally confessed "You don't deserve that place."

Glancing at the clock, Sam read 11:23 on the clock and winced. They didn't have much time. At the moment though, he was becoming more focused on the fact Dean just admitted to one of their victims that he had been to Hell.

It wasn't something they talked about. Sam and Dean's experiences in the place went unmentioned, neither really knowing that the other one had went through- nor did they want to. They each got the occasional hints, Alastair and Lucifer both made sure of that…But they had never spoken about it out loud.

"You…What?" Helen asked softly, her fingers intertwining the gold chain in her hands.

"I…" Dean swallowed, suddenly looking uncomfortable "I sold my soul once and went to Hell."

"Why?" came the immediate response "Did…Did someone hurt you too?" she asked timidly and Dean paused for a moment and shook his head.

"No. Someone I cared about had gotten hurt. Well, they full out died actually. I had been a couple feet away when he was stabbed and… I don't know. I couldn't live with the guilt. With him dead. I tried for a couple days, but I wasn't coping, I had just kind of lost it. My whole life I was supposed to worry about two things and suddenly one was just gone. I figured if I went to Hell and he lived…Sounded fair to me." Dean shrugged, leaning against the wall behind him, zoning out as he spoke. Sam stared, but his brother wouldn't meet his eyes. Not that he expected him to.

"But you're back." Helen told him encouragingly, the hope in her voice fluttering and Dean snorted.

"Yeah. Lucky me." He muttered "An angel brought me back of all things. They said I had a job to do and the fate of the world was in my hands. Welcome back, right?"

"I…What?" Helen asked, looking alarmed and leaned back to get a better look at Dean.

"It sounds pretty crazy, huh?" he smiled slightly and then ran a hand over his face warily. "You know you won't be coming back, right? I was a one in million chance. If even that."

"I…I know." She whispered and gripped the chain in her hand harder. A couple more minutes ticked by, and Sam swore he heard a howl in the distance. "What was it like?" she finally broke and Dean nodded, obviously anticipating the question. He thought for a moment, which was more than Sam had expected. Whenever Bobby or him even hinted at it, he had violently shoved them off. The furthest he ever got on the subject with him was when he admitted to torturing those souls.

"It… It's hard to explain. Terrible, I guess. When you first get down there you just feel this pain in your back, and realize you're on some kind of meat hook. They put chains on your hands and feet so you can't move, and for a while, you can only hear screaming. People are begging and crying, and the screaming is so loud, it makes your whole body shake." Dean spoke in such a monotone voice, he could have been talking about something like the weather. Neither of the two others in the room breathed, not sure whether or not to stop him. "The demons…They're all hideous. Like black monsters with slimy, wrinkled faces…They change though. Whenever they're hurting you they change into a different face. Your mom…Your Dad…Brother…Girlfriend. Whoever you care about. Then they change back and just taunt you, ripping out your lungs, your heart…Force feeding you your own stomach. Drowning you with your blood. Then they start challenging you. 'Don't scream and it will all be over' they'll tell you. So you don't. You just keep it all in. Then when you explode and beg and beg and beg until suddenly they're ripping you limb from limb. Sometimes you get your hands smashed and bones crushed…Or you can have your teeth ripped out and forced into your throat… They might decide you electrocute you or dissect you and force you to watch as they tear out your insides…And all that time, the screaming never stops. The smell never stops. It is thick with blood, gore, and puke that goes up your nose…Oh, and cooked meat. Sometimes they burn you too. When they get done everything just goes dark. You feel your body coming back together so your fresh for next time and you sit there and know you only have minutes before it starts again…And there is still screaming. That part never stops. Ever. Eventually, they might tell you what is going on topside. Or…They might drag someone down with you." Dean quietly said and Sam blinked, trying not to think too much at what he was hearing.

"Drag…Someone down with you?" Helen choked back, and Dean closed his eyes, now looking thoroughly exhausted.

"There was this girl…Cassie. I, um…I guess you might say that I…You know. Liked her. A lot."

"Loved her?" Helen smiled slightly and Dean opened one eye to look at her.

"Yeah…That might have been the word." He said with a humorless smile. "Anyways, I was there for…Twenty years maybe? When Alastair- my demon torturer BFF- told me he had a surprise. I thought…Just more cutting I guess. But he brought her in… She had been Catholic and after her Mom had died…She committed suicide. Crowley said that by their book, she should go to Hell. She shouldn't have. Wouldn't have. They just did it torment me. Alastair cut her up and…She just kept screaming for me. Over and over again…She asked me why…Why I didn't come back when I said I would, why I didn't ever call to make sure she was okay, why I wasn't helping her. I might have lost my mind, I wasn't for sure. After ten years of us being tortured together she finally lost her will and turned. Now she's roaming around as a demon somewhere." He spat out bitterly "I gave up and started torturing souls."

Helen said nothing, her eyes now more locked on the time, which now read 11:48. Twelve minutes.

"So…That's Hell." She swallowed "That…That's…That's Hell." She said with a half sob, half laugh.

"That's Hell." He agreed, looking at her now, both eyes open and full melancholy. "And I'm telling you that you don't deserve it. Let us help you."

"They'll always be after me." She said, weeping "I'll go there in the end, what's the difference?" when there was no response at first she suddenly yelled out through tears "What's the difference!?"

"The difference is you can change your fate. Nothing is set in stone. Not if you don't let it. You make the difference." Dean shot out, wincing at his words. He had never been good at pep talks. But…He wanted, no _needed_ this girl to understand. She couldn't go there. He wouldn't let her. She didn't deserve it…

He wasn't even sure if he had deserved it at times.

"I…Okay." Helen swallowed hard, blood now trickling down the side of her hand from grabbing the cross so hard. "Okay. Okay. Help me…Oh my God, I don't want to go there. Help me…_Please_." She begged and Dean nodded, hopping up and beginning to get out the supplies needed. He didn't meet Sam's eyes though, he didn't want too either. Sam had asked about Cassie once when he had gotten back from Hell. Asked if he had talked to her since he had gotten back. Dean knew that his brother was just desperate for him to talk to _someone_ at the time, but… Never mind. It didn't matter.

11:54

"I want to get it." Dean muttered conversationally to his brother as they loaded their guns and knives, Helen shivering in the protective circle they had quickly made her.

"Ok." Sam readily replied, his eyes drifting over his brother's face for a moment. "Dean." He suddenly said, straightening up to look him in the eyes. "You…What you said…Was it…? I mean," he cut himself off with a shaky laugh, but the question still remained.

"I said what I had to say to keep her out of that place Sam."

"But was it true?"

"It's almost twelve, we got to move." Dean replied dryly and Sam felt his stomach twist again. That was enough of an answer.

Retreating back to Helen, in case there were more than one Hellhound, he stood by her side.

"He was really there…" she spoke to him, her tattered dress flailing in the wind of the night as she stood in the broken down house. "I don't think I could…" she took a deep breath and looked down. "I don't think I'm that strong." She admitted, looking at Sam. "I mean, Hell…You got to picture the worst, right? But…To just hear it all laid out like that." She shook her head. "Eternity is a long time. Maybe I deserve it…And I was ready to take on any punishment I deserve but…I can't do that. I can't."

Sam paused, looking her over. She looked so much like Jess right now, it was almost scary. The only difference was her figure was delicate looking and eyes nearly black. Bruises lined her arms, and Sam knew it was from clinging to herself so tightly out of fear the past couple days. Helen Rogers had had five years without her husband there to abuse her anymore…And then she was supposed to be off to Hell. Now that her years were up? Sam wasn't for sure what would have been worse for her.

The barking and growling quickly came, along with the dog prints that pounded on the rotting wood. Sam lifted his gun, snapping it so it was ready to go. Dean heard the signal and dove into it, ready to take them on as his brother watched his back in case anything got out of hand.

"Hey there Sammy." A voice suddenly whispered and Sam could only take a minute to register how familiar it sounded before the world went flying and he found himself pinned against a wall. "My, my you look older, don't you?" the voice asked and Sam blinked his blurred eyes to see the figure of a girl standing there. Like Helen, she wore a tattered dress which was white, making dark skin stand out. "You like my meat suit?" she asked mockingly "They told me I sort of looked like this as a human." She smiled as she walked; her feet bare and her eyes went black.

"Cassie?" Sam groaned, unable to find irony in the moment she came _now_ of all times.

"Shh. Don't spoil it. Dean hasn't seen me yet." She told him, her grin widening, before turning to Helen, who was watching with wide eyes, terrified.

"Helen, Helen, Helen." She tsked as she wagged her finger "You know this isn't how deals work." She told her with mock sternness.

"Keep away from me." Helen gritted out, stepping back.

"Or what? Your heroes will rescue you? You want to get a clue honey? They can't do nothing. Sammy boy over here couldn't even save his own brother from his deal. Dean-o…" she laughed "Don't get me started on him. He couldn't even save me as I begged." She glowered. Sam looked over at his brother, who seemed to notice there was another problem going on as he continued to take down one of the hellhounds that had come out.

"Heel!" Cassie said suddenly and the dogs went still and Dean barely had a moment to register before the demon grabbed him.

She didn't say anything, but she apparently didn't need to. Judging by his face, he somehow just knew.

"Cassie." He said blandly and then looked over at her and Helen. "Leave her alone…And please take my brother off the wall." He added with flatness in his tone.

"Oh, you're no fun anymore. I was expecting a bigger reaction than that! I mean, it had been years since we've seen each other right? I'm guessing you haven't missed me." She said with mocking pout. "I suppose that's how it always is with you." She sighed sarcastically and then ran her tongue over her upper lip. "Listen hon, the deal isn't for you. So the good news? I don't have to kill you…I'll save that for date two. Helen though…She has to go." She snickered and Dean rose his gun warily.

"Don't make me shoot you."

"I don't think you could. After all…It is still my soul. Just battered in bruised." She sung and tossed her hair. "As if that gun would hurt me anyways."

Shrugging, Dean put the gun away and pulled out Ruby's knife, Cassie visibly paling.

"Better?" he asked, and the demon glared at him.

"You still couldn't do it."

"Take your dogs and scram." He told her and Cassie paused before taking a bare foot and flicking the protective line by Helen away. Dean barely had time to react, lunging to stop her just as Sam felt himself fall from the wall and there was a wild growl and a scream.

Cassie was gone.

The dogs were dead.

Helen's body laid in pieces.

Dean sat next to it, his knife bloody from killing the hounds one second too late, his eyes watching impassively.

Walking up next to him, Sam stared at her bloody form, unable to think of what else to really say aside from moving to lightly grab his upper arm, hoping to haul him up and get him away from this mess.

Dean simply jerked away, fists clenched as he watched more blood stain the floor.

"The last thing she probably thought about was what I told her." He finally said hollowly at the corpse.

"There was nothing-"

"Don't." came the dangerous tone "Don't you even _fucking go there_." Dean hissed and got up, throwing his gun hard into the wall, a loud crack echoing. Deciding his anger wasn't released yet, he pounded his fist against the wall for good measure, effectively splitting the skin.

Sam stared. What was there to say? He had just heard his brother's exploits in Hell to a girl, who was now there herself, and all because of an ex-lover of Dean's had decided to make an appearance as a demon.

What could you really say to a fucked up situation like that?

Dean must not have expected him to though, because he instead decided to start cleaning up silently, not commenting on anything at all. Staring at her body again for a couple moments he bit his lip.

"I didn't tell her all of it." He finally said, once the blood and body was gone. "At least not the worst part." he murmured, sounding like he was trying to comfort himself more than anything.

"About Hell?" Sam asked "How could there be more?"

"When you're turning into one of them. You can feel it." He shook his head and Sam looked at him. In the cage… Where he had been, he was tortured. Screams, and fire, and torture… And all of those mind tricks. Real and not real, he hadn't ever been sure… But he hadn't thought about demons. Never thought about him turning into one. He suppose that while the Angels' talents lay with damaging the mind, the demons' are with damaging souls.

"How?" he asked and Dean, who was now wrapping his bleeding fist, looked over at him warily. Sam wasn't for sure if he was going to answer after several minutes of silence, but finally he spoke with an exhaustion he hadn't ever heard from his brother before.

"You can just tell. And you know it is wrong but… I don't know. The screaming? It freaking tantalizes you Sam…but eventually, when your soul starts to shift, it turns into music. When I stopped hurting the souls, I heard screaming, but when I was torturing them… I started to just hear music from their mouths. The smell? It became just like a home cooked meal with turkey and a freaking apple pie. Hurting them was like an adrenaline rush. It was wrong. It was sick. But you can't stop…And I knew I was turning into one. My hands started glowing black and…I started forgetting things. I forgot Mom, Dad, my name even at times…Once in a while I would have to fight to remember if I had brother or not…If I had been there a month longer…Hell, it might have been me who just dragged Helen off." He swallowed and Sam felt his body tense. "I couldn't tell her that."

"But you're not a demon." He told him and Dean looked like he was about to argue "_You're not_." He growled out more forcefully. "Hey!" he snapped when his brother didn't respond right away. Dean looked at him guardedly and Sam scowled at him. "You. Are. Not. One of them." He said vehemently "Got it?"

"Yeah Sam, I know." Dean replied, not sounding completely focused and Sam got the feeling he was just trying to humor him.

"Remember in fifth grade? When Molly Parkers told me I was worthless?" he asked and watched as Dean's empty expression hastened into one of anger and annoyance.

"Yeah. I told her she was a bitch and that if she talked to you again I was going to cut off all her hair." He shrugged. "Why?"

"I was thinking before that, when I first got home and told you."

"Told me? You were sobbing it out onto my shirt. I thought someone had died." Dean snorted, the barest hints of a smile coming onto his face as he thought back onto their childhood. Sam let his mood lighten as well, seeing his brother relax slightly.

"I was like ten."

"Wuss."

"Whatever. The _point_ was that when I told you, and you were finished freaking out, you spent the next week trying to convince me otherwise."

"I can't believe you actually believed that little bitch."

"She was convincing." Sam shrugged and got a raised eyebrow from Dean before grinning. "What? She was. Anyways, I guess it didn't matter because you made me say something good about myself every day. It was so annoying."

"What? Low confidence will get you killed in a hunt." Dean flushed with slight embarrassment. "Is there a reason why you are bringing up sappy memories? Or is that just a girl thing?" Rolling his eyes, Sam lightly pushed him before giving a snarky grin.

"Say something nice about yourself Dean." He smiled and Dean took a moment to stare at him.

"You are such an ass." He grumbled.

"Hey it worked for me. I could come up with some for you."

"Or I could sock you in the mouth. Are we done?"

"This isn't your fault dude."

"Sam…" Came the warning tone and it was back in tense territory. Tip toeing around the real problem like the elephant in the room. Deciding to just come out and get it over with Sam just dove in.

"You don't want to talk about Hell anymore. I get it. You don't want to talk about Cassie. I get it. You don't have to. But can you take five seconds to understand that this isn't your fault? To _not_ torment yourself for once? By the sound of it, Alastair did that enough." He ground out and Dean looked like he was about to stab him for a moment.

"Cassie-"

"You didn't bring her down there. And you couldn't have killed her here. She was too fast and there wasn't anything we could have done."

"Are you done Dr. Phil?" Dean scoffed and Sam threw a challenging gaze.

"Am I?"

"Yeah. Totally. We've totally reached our chick flick limit for the year. You want to get all sappy again, go call Bobby Samantha." Dean told him, getting up. He held out a hand to his brother and frowned before adding. "Sorry you had to hear about…You know." He shrugged.

"You know, that's kind of what I'm here for." Sam grunted as he lifted himself off the floor after accepting Dean's hand.

"For me to unload on you? I like to think you have more important things to do Sam. Like stopping the apocalypse or something." Dean snorted as he walked over to the car, pausing for a moment to gaze sadly at the mound of dirt where Helen's body was buried. He had wanted to give her body to the family at least, but it was impractical, not to mention she had no one left.

"I do have more important things to do. Like making sure my brother doesn't get hurt or think stupid things." Sam grumbled and Dean gave him an exasperated look.

"Dude." He muttered and got into the driver's side of the car. "Chill."

Sam didn't reply, he was glad he had gotten his brother to stop feeling so depressed, though he knew as soon as this was over, Dean would go back to mourning- as he probably would. You didn't just lose a victim and get over it. They would need some time.

"Hey, I just thought of that positive statement." Dean commented suddenly and Sam stared in surprise. "I do a pretty awesome job at raising little brothers…Or sisters. I'm still not sure."

Yeah. They would be fine.

* * *

**Ta da! First Supernatural fic and super excited about it! So I hope you enjoyed this, I'll be doing Sammy's Hell next. After that I was thinking purgatory and heaven... You know, the PTSD things our boys never seem to talk about until you force them? Yeah. Those. As of right now those are the only three I can think of so review and tell me if you have any other ideas!**

**Please review if you can!**

**~Kensi**

**P.S. For those of you who don't remember who Cassie is (I just realized some of you may not...). She was a character in season 1 that was really the first girl we knew Dean to be 'love' with. She was in one episode and then after that we never heard from her again... So this is my version of what happened to her! (Sad, I know). Thanks for reading!**


	2. Mind of the Broken, Soul of the Healed

Chapter Two: **The Mind of the Broken, Soul of the Healed**

_Welcome, welcome Sammy boy! Guess what? You and Adam over there just won a free trip with my brother and I here! Your stay will last about…Oh, just eternity give or take a few centuries. Enjoy!_

"No."

_Hey, you want to play a game? How about we count how many times your Mom screams as she burns on that roof? Flashback!_

"Stop."

_Whoa, Daddy just totally lost a lung there…Fun watching him suffer isn't it? Does it make you feel better Sam? Watching him suffer? You always did hate him._

"No. I never wanted… Please."

_One, two, three…There goes Dean. Four, five, six… He can't be fixed. Seven, eight, nine… Your soul is mine. Ouch. Look at that! Your brother is in Hell again. Looks like he killed himself because you're with me. _

"You're lying!"

_Aw, does Sammy not want his big brother to be hurting again? It is kind of your fault you know._

"Please, please stop it."

_But we're having so much fun!_

"Sam."

_Sam…Come play._

"Sammy, come on. Look at me!"

_Yeah, Sammy, look at me! Look into my eyes!_

"Damn it Sam! Look. At. Me."

_Ooh, cue emotional music! _

"Wake up!"

_Are you sure you want to? Is that really your brother talking or is it me? _

"GET OUT!" Sam screamed and felt hands suddenly pinning him as he lashed out, his chest hurting as he tried to breathe, but couldn't. "Get _out_." He moaned, and voices were around him.

"Shut up." One snapped and the rest went quiet as Sam struggled, fighting to get free. One of the hands left his wrists and found a place instead on the back of his neck, squeezing tightly. "Sam. Listen to me." It said, and while it sounded calm, Sam could trace a note of fear in it. "We talked about this. It isn't real. I swear." It told him sternly. "Open your eyes."

_Be careful Sammy… You might see something you don't want to._

"Open them." The hand around his wrists gripped him tighter, and he felt a thumb pressing into the palm of his hand. "Sam, come on. Calm down."

Dean. Dean was here.

_Are you sure?_

"Dude, you are totally going to regret this later. There were some hot chicks eying you over, but I think they lost interest now that you're just laying here."

Yeah. That was his brother.

_Or it could be me._

"Alright. We'll start out small then. Can you tell me who you're talking too? Or are you just going to continue being an ass?"

_Lucifer!_

"D-Dean?" he choked out, going limp. His breathing wasn't slowing down and his eyes were still squeezed shut. The hands didn't let go either.

"Well there's that Stanford education. I have to admit, I sometimes feel like you got stupider going there."

"Did…Not."

"Prove it then. Where are we?"

_Hell. The cage. Hey, look there's Adam._

"Case?"

"Where is the case at?"

"Oklahoma?"

"Alright, so maybe Stanford did you some good after all." The voice said gently and the hands released his wrists, but still stayed comfortingly by his neck like they had whenever he had a nightmare as a kid. Sam swallowed, letting one of his hands grip the cloth of something leather next to him.

"Not real." He whispered.

"Well last time I checked, I was real. And so is that huge gash on my arm…"

Dean was hurt?

_Oh, is he? Are you sure I didn't do that? Or you?_

"You might need to stitch that up for me when you feel like it."

Silence.

Sam paused, waiting for Dean to talk more. He needed to listen, to decide if it was real enough to open his eyes. It had been so _real_. So fucking real. He couldn't tell if he was still in the cage. It had been awhile since he had another one of these episodes, but that didn't stop them from happening.

"Remember the case with Helen Rogers?"

_Ooh! Is Helen down here too? _

"No! Yes."

"Which one?"

"Yes. Yes… You talked about what happened to you." He whispered and almost shuddered at the memory. He had been horrified to hear what his brother had gone through. Somehow he had always thought he had gotten the worse end of the deal. Guess Hell is Hell. There is no worse.

"Can you tell me about what happened to you?"

_Would you like me to help you? I could help you remember!_

"No!" he hissed, and the hand moved up further from his neck to the back of his hair, keeping him from jerking away.

"Hey, stop moving. Breathe. Tell me just a little. You know, when I was little I remember Mom told me the bravest things we do aren't when we actually _do_ anything. It's when we tell somebody the truth."

_Ha. This is getting sappy. Speaking of your mom, you want to go watch her burn?_

"Don't want to."

_Good job Sammy. You tell him!_

"Come on. You're braver than me when it comes to that stuff. You know that. I couldn't have told Dad half the things you did."

_Ooh, but you regretted saying it didn't you? You didn't say it because you were brave. You said it to make him hurt._

"Dean…"

"Just tell me one thing."

There was a pause and Sam gripped the leather in his hand tighter, his heart rate slowing slightly. One thing…He could do that, right?

_Liar._

"It hurt."

_Wow…That's…Descriptive._

"I…I heard Adam screaming…And Lucifer's voice. His voice was the worst part."

_The part that never left._

"I was on fire. And then drowning. They peeled my skin off and ripped out my tongue when I screamed too loud." There was a sound of a sharp intake of breath and the hand gripped tighter around him, but the pain was welcomed. It was _real_.

_Are you sure?_

"Every time I opened my eyes I would see something different. Mom dying. Dad dying. You dying. People were hurt and Lucifer kept saying I didn't have to watch… Then he burned my eyes out."

_That was fun to watch… Too bad you couldn't. Ha! See what I did there?_

"They stabbed me and ripped out my throat."

_You-_

"Stop listening to him Sam."

"What?"

"You're pausing. Stop listening to him. He's not there."

_Lies. I-_

"Shut up." The voice interrupted him "Leave him alone and go back to whatever pit you crawled out of."

Dean… It was so like him to yell at something that wasn't even real to make his brother feel better.

Silence.

"He's gone."

"Good." The voice told him "And I thought your imaginary friends were bad."

"I liked Greg."

"How did a seven year old come up with the name Greg anyways?" he asked and a smile tugged up at Sam's lips.

"I don't know… I just remember you hated him."

"Of course I did. I was being upped by something that didn't really exist. Plus it was embarrassing to take you places."

"You were just jealous."

"As if. Though I have to admit, I'm kind of offended that you would rather imagine Hell than look at me right now."

"That's not fair. I'm not seeing Hell right now."

"What's better to look at than me?" he asked and Sam snorted, slowly cracking a lid open as the hand from his neck disappeared. Slowly, he blinked, catching a glimpse of Dean's white and tired looking face which gave him a ghost of a smile when he locked eyes. "See? I told you." He said weakly and Sam ran a hand over his face, propping himself up on his elbows.

"What happened?"

"Spirit and demon teamed up… Somehow they got into your head and had a bit of a play date, which explains the freak out session."

"Your arm okay?"

"Huh? Oh yeah." He said, lifting up a bloody and bandaged arm for him to see. At Sam's exasperated expression he gave another grin. "What? I think it makes me look badass."

"Sure it does Indiana Jones." He said and looked down to see he was still gripping the end of his brother's leather jacket. Embarrassed, he quickly let go and sighed, swinging his legs over the ledge of whatever it was he was lying on. "Where's the med kit? I'll sew it up." He yawned and Dean snorted.

"Ok there Clara Barton." He chuckled as he reached over and picked up the bag before giving him a long look. "You alright?" he asked, studying him over and Sam nodded. That was probably the best part about Dean. He'd do something incredibly amazing and then act as though nothing had happened. It was part of the reason he _did_ feel alright right now. He was fine.

_Are you sure?_

Yeah, Sam thought. Get out of my head before my brother and I kick your ass.

* * *

**Alright...So I know this chapter may have been confusing, especially if you read through it quick. Here's a brief little summary of what just happened if you need it. Sam and Dean had been on a hunt, and Sam had been attacked leading him into a psych break. The italics are Lucifer speaking, and the person talking to Sam is obviously Dean. When Sam is responding he's either talking to Dean, Lucifer, or both. The others voices I mentioned at the beginning were just some other people who had been involved when Sam collapsed (who Dean shortly sent away). Then the rest is Dean trying to get Sam to open his eyes back up.**

**Yep! That's it (: Hope you guys all enjoyed :D**


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